View Full Version : A Whirlpool / edited (beginning)

July 6th, 2018, 12:09 PM
Does this romance chapter look promissing to you? What are the strengths and what are the weaknesses if any?
Thank you very much for your feedback.

Chapter One

She was not there. He needed her.

The coldness of his inner turbulence left him weakness. He remembered her brown, melted-caramel skin. He remembered her silky tighs. He remembered it all.

It. It kept him on the edge, it helped him anticipate her company. His solitude dragged him to the time they were sharing the same breath of air -- her pinkish dress waved, he felt the strength of a bull, the Sun revolved around the Earth. They lay on the farthest sandy beach, not distressed by the remembrance of the lost and lone souls. Not distracted by anyone. A perfect day to have.

But it was a distant thought now, a world nearly whirlpooled and lost.

Yeah, it tasted like desperation now. He had to lose the sour taste the solitude had cast upon him.

Do something. Move the mountain. Grab that phone!

He was left with no choice but to leave the room, the presentability of which he was more than able to afford. The objects within the room were simply pointing at him. They were telling a story of a single man of a fine taste. Visiting auctions and (without a doubt) purchasing expensive peculiarities was his small exhaustion, carrying the weight of all the continents, northern and southern.

His maid, the lush Mexican girl he nicknamed Juanita, was always there for him when he needed more then a company, when he needed a memory.

''Don't think about Juanita now, you fool! What's the use? You know who you need, don't you?''

''Seņor!', Juanita cried, her eyes shut in bewilderment.

''Not now, Juanita!'' the solitude's voice echoed tenebrously.

With the phone in his sweaty hand, he headed for his peace at the secluded quarter. He approached the fire place. He dialed her number, he waited. The seconds felt like seeds of eternity.

''Yes?'' she, his favored one answered just sweetly, wearing his present -- a sparkling pearl necklace.

''Dearest, it's me. You know I've been waiting for you to call,'' he began, trying to start a conversation. The brackishness of his secluded self was finding the way out.

She could feel the It.

''Are you alone...?'' she threw the dices of seduction at him. Unprepared, her voice trembeled like the cherry flowers of the trees in her garden. Unsure, she was after that familiar and seasoned feeling of the two of them sharing the same faith.

''Yes, I'm...alone.'' He sounded as if he needed her to become more compassionate towards him. He needed her to forgive him, to let go. To just make allowances for the unfaithful animality within him.

''Won't you come to me?'' he asked, focussing his arrows at her heart.

''When is she leaving?'' she impatiently answered with a question. Her heart was almost broken.

''She's...just slammed the door.'' He smiled, yet was unaware of it. But, soon enough he realized that he did smile. He didn't know why he had done it, but he knew she was going to notice it.

''Okay. I'm coming to you. You'll probably want to make me some coffee. And some gin and tonic, please.''

She took her seat in the center of the room, right by the mirror. The night was still, like his smile. She thought of their first encounter in a little, still bar. He offered to buy her a drink. Gin and tonic. Soon after that, they called a cab and drove to the next motel. The morning came, and she was worn out. The experience was rich, yet she felt poor. Emotions of contrition overwhelmed. The both of them had been married.

''Remorse, remorse...'' she thought, and just shook her head.

The phone began to ring. She left it ringing.

Some things are better left unsaid and unheard.

She decided to quit retrieving within her past, and began to put on her evening makeup. Within minutes, the natural beauty gleamed. She felt younger again, she was ready to see the results.


''Lady, this is it, were there -- the turquoise mansion. Here you go.''

She got out of the smelly cab, she payed the somewhat drunk cab driver. She was now alone and she took it easy. As she was approaching the mansion it began to rain: she blissfully passed by the shadow of a Latina girl.

The large door was open. She didn't ring the bell, nor did she knock. She just entered the house.

There he was, in her favorite place of a room -- in the center. He was smiling. His hands were busy holding a couple of glasses of gin and tonic.

''How are you?'' he asked, expecting nothing less but elation.

''I am feeling worn out. Only you can warm me... Outside... It rains,'' she realized that she was begging.

He had caused her to feel like that, he knew that very well. He felt victorious, in a way.

''Relieve me of your gin and tonic,'' he said pythonish, handed her the glass and added: ''I'll relieve you of your misery in turn.''

''I'll drink it all,'' she felt buffled. ''Bottom's up,'' he said. After the alcohol's initial hit, he took her glass, wandered off to the massive table, put the glasses close together, and returned to her. He took her by her waiste, and felt her weakness. Then he dived into her curly blonde hair.

''Dear you shiver...'' he lifted his head, but there was no compassion to be seen in his eyes. Only black seductiveness.

She stood there, holding his face with her both hands, trying to kiss him. However, he wasn't in a mood to be kissed. Before long she realized that she was shouting.

''Who is she, what is she? Is this how much you love her?''

''Don't you remember the white beaches I was taking you to?'' he was sahking her, trying to calm her down.

''Liar!!!'' her eyes were flooded with tears.

He stopped shaking her, and just stood there. He didn't feel anything. He began to feel the alcohol though. It tasted like the almost forgotten motel looseness from long ago.

''If only you weren't so irresistable,'' she stuttered and understood Juanita.

''Come, you better have your coffee,'' he smiled. She looked at his sly smile, at his lips. She had been invited upstairs.

He began to climb the stairs while watching her following him. He offered her his hand. Their fingers mingled, and she felt dizzy just at thinking of his body which was about to reveal itself to her.

All through the night, their bodies were engaged in a whirlpool of Amor.


Don't play with me. You'll win.
This was the first thought that visited her in her dreams before waking up. She opened her round eyes, and turned her head towards his still, sleeping face.
He finally woke up.
He loves me...

He but adjusted his pillow to see her better. She was trying to see herself in his long look. But he just stared at her.

She couldn't stand that anymore. She turned away from this ordeal and him. She turned her back at him. Now she could admire the early morning Sun shining through the silky curtains. She could admire the feeling of her being caressed by the warmth.
She could forget another night that passed.

He got up and began to dress. She followed suit. Silent nudity prevailed for several minutes.

''Hey, do you want to have breakfast with me?'' he asked with a grin on his face.

She was as hungry as a wolf. She needed strength. Ahead of her was another long day.

''Yes,'' she mumbled and went to the bathroom.

''Was that a 'yes'?'' he used this line as a pretence to go where she went.

She heard this, she heard him coming.

Everyone...does live for a moment. And this one is mine. He's mine.

''Everything okay now?'' he asked her as he saw her getting into the bath tub. He took a few steps forward, drew himself closer to her and put his palm under her well-formed buttocks.

''Hey... thank you,'' she said gigglish. They kissed gratefully.